1. In which of your gardens shall I frolic,
And with which of your bounties shall I praise,

2. Fruit over fruit, though the picker
Is confused by the sweetness of the orchard’s yield.

3. By poetry or by my eyes entranced,
My gaze and thoughts do not waver.

4. Those beauties, in their totality,
Are branches and birds chirping at dawn.

5. So if I sleep, with them I spend the night,
And wake at the charms of their songs.